
30/08/2025
THE SMOKY HUT
đź’˘ Episode 5: The Dare đź’˘
At the riverbank, children gathered, their laughter sharp as they teased Wakesho. Bold, mischievous Mkang’ombe sneered at her.
“You claim you saw a hut with smoke?” he taunted. “Then prove it! Or admit you’re only scared of shadows.”
The other children laughed, pointing, their mockery burning in her chest. Wakesho clenched her fists, shame twisting into defiance.
“I will go,” she declared. “I will enter the hut myself.”
That evening, as the sun bled into the ridges, Wakesho slipped quietly into the forest. Every step deeper made her heart pound louder. Crickets chirped. Leaves whispered. And then—there it was.
The smoky hut stood waiting. Its roof sagged, yet smoke curled upward though no fire glowed inside. With trembling hands, she pushed the door open. The air inside was heavy, thick with the smell of ash and old sorrow.
Then, without warning, the door slammed shut behind her. The darkness swallowed her whole.
Inside, the smoke thickened until shapes began to move within it. Shadows stepped forward, faces burned and hollow. They were men, women, children — villagers of old. Their voices came in whispers, dry and echoing.
“Do not fear us. We were fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. We perished in fire… the fire of lies.”
Another figure emerged. Wakesho’s breath caught. Mkamburi herself stood before her, tall, her ragged form glowing faintly in the gloom.
“Child,” she said, voice steady and haunting, “your grandmother’s silence bound us. The curse cannot lift until the truth is spoken. Until our names are remembered.”
Tears blurred Wakesho’s vision. Her voice shook as she whispered, “But… how can I free you?”
The ghosts answered as one, their voices rising from the smoke: “Speak. Speak for the dead.”